“Join in!” Nate beamed, tooting away on the harmonica. Liesel seized her gleaming violin, Rat grabbed a bassoon, and Skylar used Harper’s maracas, which she shook and played as she cartwheeled wildly. The entire circus followed; coins were jingled, hats became drums, and an old boot was used as a trumpet. People laughed and sang and clapped and whooped and the gray mist began to roll away, leaving only a land of night-colored clouds.
The little crowd were so busy following the Wild Conductor that none of them noticed the effect the music had on Star. She began to glow faintly like a red ember, then a cool blue flame: quiet, but very alive. A white spark fell from her chest and she gave a light laugh as her arms opened like wings and her feet rose from the ground. Up she floated, up toward the cloudian like a fairground lantern, her heart beginning to dazzle.
Chapter Fourteen
THE FIRE STAR
One moment the sky was full of night, the next it was full of fire, as Star and Othello Grande collided. She dropped her cloak and came at the ringmaster, spinning through the sky like a pinwheel, a crackling burst of colorful flames.
Harper was speechless. Star really did look magical—a girl who needed no tightrope or strings or wings. She simply shone.
From beyond the thinning mist, Ferdie saw everything. He desperately wanted to reach for his pencil and scribble down a poem, but he had to keep his mind focused on pedaling. Liesel was beside herself with glee, loving every fiery moment, while Nate was caught in a state of wild wonderment.
“I thought I put your light out for good,” yelled Othello, as the heat from Star forced him backward.
Star swirled in the air, her heart a crest of brilliant sparks. “You tried to put out my light,” she said, and though her voice was gentle, it rang out as clear as nightingales. “You tricked us,” she continued. “You promised the Wild Conductor that if he left the circus I would be safe. But you lied.”
At this, all of the music stopped, even the harp. Nobody dared to breathe. You could have dropped a button from the moon and heard it splash in the stream below.
“Yes, I did,” agreed Othello smugly. “Then I cast a spell so the Wild Conductor could never return,” he boasted, “and I imprisoned you in the land below.”
There was an angry uproar from the performers. The Wild Conductor turned to Star, his face grave with sorrow. “I tried again and again to rejoin the circus,” he told her.
“And I tried to glow,” she explained sadly. “I thought if you saw my light, you might find me. But until now, there was only ash.”
“Ha,” laughed Othello. “Serves you right. No one gets to choose their heart’s wish in my circus.”
Liesel’s eyes glittered with rage. What an awful man Othello was! She wasn’t going to stand for it. She pulled off one of her shoes and hurled it at his head. With a clunk, it hit him and he wailed in a way that shook the stars.
“How dare you!” Othello screamed, blaming the Wild Conductor. The tall man held up his conductor’s wand to defend himself, but Othello was too fast, and with a swing, he sent the Wild Conductor wheeling across the sky, where Ferdie managed to catch him on the back of the cloudian.
But as the tall man landed wonkily on the black bicycle, Ferdie was catapulted into the air. He flew upward in a gloriously poetic arc and whacked straight into Othello Grande’s face. Star shot forward like a shooting star and caught Ferdie on her shoulders, careful not to singe him with her glowing heart. There was a scuffle and a shout, and then Othello found himself overbalancing, and then plummeting down toward the sleepy village below. Everyone closed their eyes, horrified. Everyone except Harper. For, even though Othello had done terrible things, he didn’t deserve this. With a clear thought, she summoned the Scarlet Umbrella out of Nate’s back pocket and jumped into it, racing down to catch the huge man by his foot.
The sight of Othello swinging back and forth like an upside-down elephant was enough to make everyone laugh.
“Let me go, you wretch.” Othello seethed, but Harper could tell he didn’t mean it—his voice was wobbling.
“I will let you go,” she said softly, “as long as you promise to leave the circus forever.”
Othello went silent with fear. But what choice did he have? With a furious nod, he agreed.
To Harper’s surprise, the scarlet silk was unbelievably strong and didn’t so much as strain beneath the enormous weight. She set Othello down inside the abandoned tent and drew back.
“You’ll never keep me away from the circus,” he growled, but even as he spoke, his circus was hurrying away back up the cobweb bridge until all that was left was Star, the Wild Conductor, Harper, her parents, and three other children from the City of Clouds.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” said Nate calmly. He bent to whisper to his beautiful wolf, and with a single bite, her teeth sliced through the cobweb bridge so its strands of ancient spider silk fell away. Othello could do nothing but stare in horror as the strange wintery land was cut free from the circus and, ever so slowly, swirled away.
Harper was safely in her Scarlet Umbrella with Midnight and Liesel. Ferdie was back on the black bicycle with the Wild Conductor. Hugo and Aurelia were settled on top of the cloudian’s silver-lined cloud, and Star was hovering in the air, her heart ablaze. As the last strands of the bridge fell away, she lifted Nate and the wolf out of the land below and carried them to the safety of the Circus of Dreams. Othello could do nothing but stare in fury as the strange, wintery land drifted away, carrying him with it.
The last anyone saw of him was his red beard, a splash of color against the gray world he had created.
Storm-stirrers appeared like a silent sea of feathers and began to create an almighty storm. The Circus of Dreams was moving on, traveling far from the abandoned tent. Thunder and lightning struck, snowflakes danced, rainbows rose and vanished, and as a shower of sparkling sleet fell, the spell that bound the circus lifted and it was finally free.
Chapter Fifteen
A CIRCUS SET FREE
I’m not sure if you ever have seen a circus set free, but imagine a fairground carousel that suddenly comes to life, all its bright horses galloping away with wild hearts, and that will be close. Harper stood between Hugo and Aurelia with Midnight perched on her shoulder. Ferdie and Liesel were tumbling about with the storm-stirrers. Star and the Wild Conductor were standing a little way apart from each other, talking shyly. And Nate was with the lightning-leader—and his bright-eyed wolf.
“What will become of the circus now?” asked Harper quietly.
Liesel sprang into the air. “The Wild Conductor can run it,” she yipped, gesturing boldly at the terrifyingly tall man. But, to everyone’s amazement, the tall man shook his head.
“For many years I chased the circus across the world,” he said with a gentleness the children had never heard before, “but the only person I wanted to find was Star.”
As he spoke, Star turned to smile at him, her heart glowing, her feet hovering just off the ground. “Then let’s forget the circus and travel together.” She beamed. “You can play your cloudian and I will dance through the sky.”
The Wild Conductor looked as if he might burst with happiness. “Whatever you wish,” he managed to utter, and Ferdie was sure he saw him wipe a tear from his eye.
There were murmurs that rippled through the crowd as soft as waves. What would become of the circus now?
The lightning-leader stood tall, blue electricity crackling through her hair, making her look quite marvelous. “The Circus of Dreams belongs to all of us,” she said in a voice like deep velvet. “We are what make it and we will run it together, writing new rules, finding a new path. As long as we have storms, we can sail through the skies.” The other members touched their hearts and nodded.
But Aurelia stepped forward. “This wonderful place has been our home for many years,” she said in her sea-salt voice.
Hugo nodded. “But we would like to have some time with our beloved daughter,” he exp
lained. “We don’t want to leave the circus forever, just spend some time as a family.”
Everyone smiled as they realized that this was now possible. And so, by the light of the moon, a new set of circus rules were written, a set that everyone agreed with. People could come and go with the seasons, families could visit, and performers could follow their heart’s desire wherever it might lead them. It would still be a circus of wonders and wishes, but this time the dream would belong to everyone, and that would be the real magic.
There was only one thing left to do—and that was celebrate. The entire troupe sprang into a giddy display of dancing and singing and acrobatic tricks as fabulous as the most fearsome of storms. When the moon and stars began to fade and sunlight trickled across the sky, the children saw that the circus had drifted back to the City of Clouds—the city they loved so much, floating like a vision of a dream above the Tall Apartment Block.
The children, the Wild Conductor, and all of the circus folk climbed down the rope ladder onto the rooftop, marveling at their newfound freedom. Great Aunt Sassy came rushing out to greet them. “My darling Harper!” She wept, sweeping Harper into a lavender-scented hug. “I thought I had lost you.”
Elsie Caraham at once offered Star and the Wild Conductor her patch of the rooftop to live on, and with the help of the storm-stirrers, they fetched a spare silver-bright tent from the circus and pitched it on the roof of the Tall Apartment Block. It looked quite peculiar, but strangely wonderful, too.
Skylar and Isabella at once became friends, and Skylar agreed to stay with the Lucas family and teach Isabella some circus tricks, so she might one day join the circus, too.
Hugo and Aurelia—well, they decided to make their home in the unforgotten concert hall in the basement. There was plenty of room for Harper, Midnight, and Ruby-Mischief, the little sharp-clawed cat they had managed to secretly keep in the circus. Though Harper would still often stay with her wonderful, hat-loving Great Aunt Sassy in the little apartment she had grown up in.
After a day of new beginnings and fast-forming friendships, summer-dew rain came splashing from the sky and the Circus of Dreams sailed away on a storm. Harper, Ferdie, Nate, and Liesel stood on the rooftop waving. It really had been an extraordinary adventure.
Liesel frowned crossly. “I really wanted to run away with the circus,” she sulked.
Ferdie ruffled his sister’s hair fondly. “I know … So did I,” he agreed, “but there’s always next year.”
Harper took Liesel’s hand. “And don’t forget, some of the circus are here, anyway.”
The four of them turned away from the sky and looked across the roof of their home. There was Star teaching Skylar how to cartwheel over a cloud. The Wild Conductor furiously composed a new song. Great Aunt Sassy stitched a wondrous new apron for Hugo to wear when he opened his cookie stall.
Liesel grinned. “I suppose The Tall Apartment Block is pretty special.” She giggled, and with that, the boy with the wolf, the girl with the Scarlet Umbrella, the boy with the serious scarf, and the girl with the sleeping bird in her hair crowded down the stairwells to Harper’s little apartment to sip hot lavender syrup and murmur about the magical rescue they had all been part of.
Later that night, when clocks all over the City of Clouds chimed twelve, all of the children were still wide awake, tucked up safe in their beds, their hearts still light with adventure.
Ferdie sat up scribbling a poem, his first about love. Liesel was busy planning a circus act of a thousand dancing mice. Nate lay curled with his starry-eyed wolf, so grateful that together they had found a bridge no one else could see—a spider-silk path that led to the land below.
Harper lay in a hammock of sequins in the unforgotten concert hall—her home for the winter. Midnight purred peacefully on her lap, and she murmured to herself with wonder. The circus was finally free and her parents were really here—in the Tall Apartment Block, with her as she had always dreamed they would be, but never quite dared to believe. “The Wild Conductor was right,” she whispered to Midnight. “Love really is strong enough to defy magic.” And as she thought of the silver tent on the rooftop, she smiled. The Fire Star was glowing once more and the Wild Conductor was finally happy, and that seemed like the most magical thing in all the world.
As Harper snuggled down, she was sure she could hear the music of the cloudian spilling across the rain-filled skies. With a happy thought she closed the Scarlet Umbrella—even magical umbrellas need to rest between adventures—then tucked her golden harp beneath her pillow and cuddled Midnight close. It was time for a different sort of adventure, one that was full of family and friendship, music and cats, stories and songs, and just a sprinkling of magic, right here in the Tall Apartment Block. As Harper’s mind filled with dazzling thoughts of all that was to come, she drifted into a deep and lovely sleep.
As Harper slept, she dreamed of flying, floating in the Scarlet Umbrella through a sky full of swirling melodies. She saw the circus in all its wild splendor and knew one day she and Midnight would help lead it. She saw many more musical instruments that she would create: a violin shaped like a heart that you play with a feather; a flute that could conjure a rainbow; an underwater piano that played the sounds of the sea. Harper saw herself traveling to a thousand different places, with her friends at her side, filling people’s hearts with music and droplets of wonder as gentle as rain.
Harper and the Fire Star Page 5